Sometimes I find myself wondering about why things have gone the way they have on my fertility journey. Not that it's necessarily important for me to know all of the "whys" and such, but I can't help but wonder, you know?
I don't know why the years that I thought would be my young, child-bearing years (namely, my twenties) were fraught with so much difficulty. I never imagined that almost that entire decade of my life would be spent searching for answers and wondering why I couldn't carry a baby full-term. I don't know why, but my faith, my ability to hope, and my resolve were tested in ways that I'll never forget. I saw six positive pregnancy tests during those years but never gave birth to a living baby. I still have a lot of scars from that time in my life, both physical and emotional.
I don't know why, during that time, we had a few doctors who gave up on us. One fertility specialist shook her head in disbelief when an ultrasound revealed that our baby had died in the womb at 9 weeks. It was our fourth pregnancy and it had been going well. She said she didn't know how to help us anymore. Another doctor, my ob/gyn at the time, told me (over the phone, no less) that she didn't think I would ever have a biological child.
I was reading a novel recently where one of the characters was talking about an aunt and uncle who had never had children. She described them as having a closeness that only barren couples seem to have. I don't know why, but we were that couple. My husband became my best friend during those years, and the trial of recurrent pregnancy loss brought us together in a way that I don't think anything else could have. For all we knew, we were facing a future together, just the two of us, that may not ever include children. I think we both deeply felt that somehow, someday we would become parents, but there were many years of uncertainty. I do feel fortunate now, looking back, that we had 12 years of marriage together before our daughter arrived. During those years we grew and changed and matured in ways that I hope make us better parents than we might have been a decade ago.
After I turned 30, we faced three years of unexplained infertility. Sure, I was apprehensive about getting pregnant again after all that my twenties had held, but we had begun to hope again and were forced to wait. And I don't know why, after the waiting was over, our seventh pregnancy made it to the second trimester and then the third, and resulted in the birth of our precious daughter. The Lord changed my story in 2010, when I was 33 years old. I don't know why that was the right time, but I'm so thankful that it happened.
And now we are in the early stages of pregnancy number eight. I struggled with whether or not to write about it here before reminding myself that that's what this blog is for. It's really the only place I feel most comfortable sharing my deepest fears and my unbridled hopes. This is always, always a scary time for me. I'm asking you to walk with me again, if you're willing. Will you wait with me and pray for me? Will you pray with me that this baby will survive and hope with me that, instead of being our seventh in heaven, this will be our second baby on earth?
The details are that I got a positive pregnancy test on Sunday, March 25. I went in for blood work the following Tuesday, March 27. My beta level was 1384, so we had our first ultrasound scheduled for Thursday, March 29. We were able to see a gestational sac and it measured normally for 5 weeks, 1 day. My estimated due date is November 27, 2012. We will have another ultrasound in two weeks, on April 12. I'm hoping with all my heart that we will see a tiny baby with a healthy heartbeat.
We are a bit surprised, but very happy and very nervous. The fact that our most recent pregnancy was successful gives us a boost of confidence, but we know that each pregnancy is unique and different. We know there are no guarantees. We are not remotely ready to make any announcements, so please if you know me in real life or are my facebook friend, please keep this to yourself and don't share it with anyone else until we are comfortable enough to make it more public. Thanks for being understanding and for choosing to walk beside us again. I hope you know how much it means to us to have your support and prayers!
I don't know why we've been given another chance at this, but (deep breath)... here we are.